


Caitlin's writing dump

by wacomintuos



Category: Dishonored (Video Game), Gravity Falls
Genre: High Chaos Corvo Attano, M/M, POV Outsider, Unrequited Love, corvo is the rat dad, dump, lewd triangle jokes, platonic, random billdip, random outsider backstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wacomintuos/pseuds/wacomintuos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where I leave all my late-night scribbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dream a Little Dream

The dreams of Dipper Pines were a beautiful thing, Bill thought to himself as he sat in the bedroom of the young man's mind, watching him contentedly, resting his head on his hand. Dipper himself lay half asleep, a blond that closely resembled Bill on top of him, a blissful smile on his face. It was a wonderful thing to observe; the two making sweet small talk as they gazed at the stars. Upon seeing this the real Bill became transfixed, taking a casual interest in the brunet's thoughts.  
Did Dipper really hope to see him in this way? Did he really want to hold him like a precious gem that wouldn't ever destroy his world? Was it just wishful thinking? Either way Bill enjoyed being calmed by this, viewing something so therapeutic in its own marvelous way. He smirked softly, actually letting himself relax. Dipper whispered something into the dream's ear.  
"I think I'm in love with you," he murmured, and the dream stroked his hair before kissing him on the forehead, his lips a ghost against pale skin.   
"Pinetree, I adore you to oblivion," the dream replied and Bill lightly chuckled. He couldn't ever imagine something as cheesy as that slipping from his lips but the sentiment amused him. He wouldn't ever feel that way for Dipper but he was truly fond of him. Bless that sweet child, Bill thought. May god take him in when he meets his untimely demise. With that, he rose to his feet and gave one more glance to the couple then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.


	2. Don't Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper finds Bill in a way he'd never expected...

The blond vessel lay bleeding in the tall grass. His breathing was heavy and Dipper wasn't sure what to say as he stood over the body, doe eyes wide and fearful knowing the man dying in front of him was very, very familiar.  
"Don't," spat Bill Cipher, once just a triangle between dimensions, now little more than a corpse. Dipper flinched as Bill's brown eyes met his green, glowing in the twilight. "Don't give me your pathetic pity."  
"I-I," Dipper stuttered, unsure of whether to hold out a hand in an offer of help or to abandon the hellraiser where he lay. "I don't pity you," he decided nervously. Bill scoffed.  
"I can see it in your eyes. You destroy my life's work and now you pity my dying body in its current state. You disgust me, Pinetree." A twisted grin was plastered to his face as he shakily stood, spattered red adorning his clothes. Rips were evidence that he hadn't exactly had it easy and wounds were most likely infected.  
"I can help you," the young man attempted to explain and was interrupted by Bill cackling as he used the tree to support his injured frame.  
"Help me?" He demanded. He snarled for show and Dipper quickly stepped back, buying his display of aggression. He had become so bitter in comparison to how he was just seven short years ago, completely happy-go-lucky in a world he controlled with a flick of a wrist. Dipper knew of was mainly his fault Bill was stuck here, bound to the woods in eternal exile. In fact, he should have known better than to come here. He knew this was enemy territory, as it were.  
"Still old enemies, huh?" Bill asked, checking blood caked nails.  
"I can't trust you," Dipper hissed. “I can’t ever trust you.”  
He was half tempted to turn and walk away.


	3. Tydip

"We need to tell him."  
"What? No!" Dipper yelped, dragging Tyrone away from the bedroom door. "We're not telling him. Nope. No way." Tyrone began to protest as Dipper pulled him onto the bed. "Don't you even dare."  
"Are you kidding me?" Asked his clone, exasperated. "What is your problem?!"  
"My problem is that if you tell him, he'll kill me! Or worse- laugh at me!" He shuddered. Tyrone laughed and ruffled his hair in an attempt to calm him while he rubbed his shoulders.  
"Dude, chill." He commanded. Dipper sighed. "We know what we want, right?"  
Dipper thought about it. "Right...?"  
"Right!" The clone responded. "We want him to kiss us," he said and kissed him. Dipper flushed and let himself be pushed down. "We want him to be ours."  
Dipper nodded hesitantly.  
"We want him to fuck us." Tyrone smirked as he bucked his hips.   
"Ty- what are you-?!" Dipper whimpered as Tyrone shifted and picked up the cuffs that they kept under the bed. "Tyrone!!" The clone didn't say anything but instead clicked the steel to Dipper's wrist, and the other one to the bed.  
He kissed him again and again until it was just a sloppy, heated mess of entangled limbs and a rhapsody of pants and moans. Tyrone got up and walked towards the door.  
"Where are you going? Tyrone? Tyrone?!"  
"I'm going to do what you never could, Dipper. I'm going to go tell Bill Cipher we love him."


	4. Chapter 4

He awoke in a sea of neon blue. 

The boy tried to breath and choked in the oil as he gasped and flailed around, trying desperately to get out of the thick, gloopy substance that enveloped him fully, trying to do anything to survive. Soon he was drowning, his heart slowing until the boy finally stopped breathing, but then he found that he could stand. Whale oil dripped off of him and disappeared, turning to water that hung off of him. The boy stared in surprise, trying to shake it off but still it hung in midair, as if in suspended animation. He ran his fingers over his arms and was astonished for them to come up dry. 

After accepting that he was soaked but dry, the boy tried to remember who and where he was. He knew that he was in the Void. 

“I’m the Outsider,” he said softly, but it didn’t feel right. “Outsider,” he said again, more insistently. He knew that wasn’t his name, but every time he tried saying something else, “Outsider” was the only word that left his lips.


	5. Chapter 5

To say that the rats were not a comfort would probably be a lie. 

There were some nights that Corvo would summon his mischief of rats to talk to, to tell them his deepest secrets, confess his sins. They were honestly quite cute, if he were to admit it to anyone. The Outsider had once informed him that a boy had once been bitten by one of his rats, left to die in a dark alley, but Corvo had faith that the rats wouldn't do that to him. (The Outsider just shook his head and scoffed.)

Some were soft and some a little scruffy, but Corvo knew them all individually and loved and admired each and every one, even letting them sleep in his bed at the Hound Pits if they wanted to, and so each night they would curl up next to him, keeping him warm during the cold hard nights in the months of Harvest. 

He would mourn their losses, too. He knew full well that when he summoned his devouring swarm that there would be casualties. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, their victims would hack at them with their swords and occasionally kill one or two. Such days were hard for them all, and Corvo Attano could feel their grief coursing through his veins.


	6. Corvo Headcanon list

Corvo Attano: Rat Dad (low chaos)  
Basically the best dad, super friendly, makes everyone wish they had him for a parent  
Also has a habit of either making super embarrassing dad jokes or being completely sarcastic and revealing a more bitter and caustic personality  
Extremely protective of Emily  
Generally a nice person  
Still tends to sneak around because of the mark on his hand  
Doesn’t talk much but when he does he can be a little snarky  
Will eat anything  
Done with the Outsider’s bullshit  
Would do anything to protect Emily

Corvo AttaNO (ultimate chaos)  
Full of regret for what he’s done and who he’s killed  
Emily haunts his dreams every night so he refuses to sleep  
Constantly running from his countless bad decisions   
Has gone slightly insane  
Got angry with the Outsider and attacked him (it didn’t end well)  
Was bitten by one of his own Devouring Swarm and died of plague


	7. Chapter 7

Ford was learning things about his muse, things that he didn't think he'd ever really notice.

First of all, Bill was expressive; always easy to read. He liked to wear glasses as he went over Ford's many theories- whether by real need or aesthetic Stanford didn't know- and he was always quick to point out flaws. He'd jot down algebra in an impossibly neat script (he was left handed) and give the papers back with a smug smile as if it were so obvious to him that Stanford was wrong, that he was imperfect and prone to making mistakes. Only human.

Bill was kind, and funny, and a generally good partner when he didn't pinch Ford's glasses ("This is the Mindscape, Fordsy! You don't need these dull things!") and make irritating comments on the futility of existence in a dimension with so many constraints. Ford had once muttered under his breath that if his dimension was so bad, why didn't the all-powerful muse visit some day?

The muse had seemed sufficiently chastised. "You know I can't," he said softly. "I'm a creature of the mind, it just doesn't work like that." Ford had felt bad, and had spent the rest of the day trying to make it up to him.

Bill Cipher hated sweet things. That one time he'd been given ice cream he'd spat it out like it was acid, and washed it down with a margarita. He drank a lot, probably more than was healthy for someone who so eagerly poured it into his eyes. Ford had looked horrified.

"What? I usually don't even have a mouth, how am I supposed to enjoy all your dumb finery without making a few sacrifices, huh?!"

Bill didn't get ever drunk, though. He always seemed too heavily guarded for it, like some secret would spill from his lips if he lost control. Ford could respect that. After all, as curious as he was to pick Bill's brain, he didn't want to unearth anything personal or particularly gory.

And, boy did Bill love gore. Stanford had seen him hack some deer to death through his own eyes, laughing to himself as he did. He certainly had a strange enough laugh, but it was endearing. "It's dissection!" He'd sang as he ripped its teeth out one by one with Ford's bare hands. "I just make it more fun!!"

He didn't really have a gag reflex, much to Ford's confusion. He hadn't been confused for long, however, when Bill had offered to put it to use. Stanford hadn't questioned it since.

"I'm a nice guy, huh, kid?" He laughed, looking over at Ford, who jumped at his voice. "You're sweet. Did you doze off?"

"No, I didn't," he replied as he began writing something down. "I was just thinking."

"Y'see, that was your first mistake. Thinking is a dangerous thing. So primal; so human. Disregard conscious thought! It's a crutch for the weak!"

Ford looked up at him. "You can't seriously be telling me that you don't think," he deadpanned. "That's literally impossible."

"Well, I do think sometimes," Bill admitted reluctantly. "But it's rare. Move beyond it! I dunno, get yourself a nice drug habit, it helps. Ah, as I was saying. Your journal says how wonderful I am."

Ford smiled. "Bill, you're my best friend. So, of course I find you riveting."

"At my age, kid, you tend to take sarcasm seriously. People betray how they think so easily that what they say is just a tell to how they think. Thinking is dumb and naïve. You're better than it, I can tell." The muse blinked, slow and deliberate. "As you can see, I'm winking!" Bill laughed, putting the journal down. He had been joking, of course (probably) but now his features were deadly serious.

"I don't know what to tell ya, Stanford. Some day, some weirdo kid is gonna find our- I mean, your- book and either think 'wow! This guy's a genius!', or 'wow, this guy's gay for a two-dimensional triangle'."

Stanford laughed despite himself. "But really, Bill. I don't even talk to that many humans, let alone whatever divine creature you might be. There aren't enough people in my life that I could be gay for, so by the ratio of people who're gay and that I talk to, and also by a process of elimination, you are statistically the one I would be gay for."

Bill cackled. "Ha, nerd!! Also, never call me a divine being again because that's stupid and some real divine guy would probably be pissed!!"

"I was kidding."

"No, you weren't!"

He grinned. "Okay, I wasn't." Pausing, he began to ask a question. "You know how you're two-dimensional?"

Bill was hesitant. "...Yes?"

"If you were three-dimensional, would you be a prism or a pyramid?"

Although he hadn't been drinking before, Bill purposely made a drink appear in his hand for the express purpose of spitting it out. "Woah, you are vulgar!!"

Ford frowned.

"I knew you were deviant, but wow, that's pretty perverted!" He looked scandalized, moving away from him. "That's really sick, you know," he said, smirking.


End file.
